Only Seven Minutes
by Medea Arduinna
Summary: Harry and Hermione share a powerful talk in very different circumstances.


**A/N: This fic came after reading the lyrics to a song called "Seven Minutes in Heaven" that my friend posted on his LiveJournal. So it's big thanks to Grant for this story coming about, even if I don't like Fall Out Boy. Review if you like; constructive criticism is welcome! I need help on deciding whether or not I need a sequel, so it's up to you to convince me.**

**-Medea**

Only Seven Minutes

"Spin the bottle!"

"Lav, that's absolutely stupid. How about seven minutes in heaven?"

Hermione shook her head, though nobody really noticed. At least the Gryffindor seventh years, plus Ginny, were finding ways to get the group's mind off the war. It was nearing midnight now, but it seemed like just an hour ago the body of Colin Creevey had been tossed onto the front steps of Hogwarts, bloodied and not his arm, but his chest branded with the Dark Mark. Hogwarts went automatically lockdown mode, all the students stuffed into their respective House common rooms. The group discussing what game to play next was the only one left in the common room save for a few third years, for everybody else had retreated to their dormitories in hopes of finding sleep to escape from the possibility of an attack on the school. Hermione would have gone to bed, but she knew she wouldn't find sleep, and company, even if they were contemplating playing seven minutes in heaven, was much better than being alone.

"Okay, let's draw names then," Lavender scribbled everyone's name down on separate folded pieces of parchment, dumped out her large purse, and threw in the parchment. She tossed the purse in the middle of the circle. "Who goes first?" Parvati grinned and reached in, unfolding her piece slowly, her dark eyes darting around the circle. They settled on Dean Thomas and she squealed. Hand in hand, they walked into the broom closet with Lavender calling after them, "Only seven minutes!"

Next, Neville drew Ginny's name, both blushing furiously as they passed into the closet, and Lavender drew Ron's, with Seamus looking very put out. Then the purse came to Hermione. She could hear her blood rushing through her ears, her heart hitting her chest so hard she was surprised nobody else could hear it. Ginny winked at her, and Hermione rolled her eyes as she drew out a piece of paper. Written in Lavender's messy cursive was the name she'd feared to see.

_Harry Potter._

Shaking, she looked up to meet his green eyes focused so intently on her brown ones, and then she stood up. "Well, the sooner we get this over with, the better," she said, a little too cheerfully as she tucked the paper in her pocket, grabbed Harry's hand, and pulled him to the broom closet.

"Here's your time to shine!" Lavender called as Hermione slammed the door shut. The closet was empty, obviously not having been used for several years, but it was lit by a single floating candle Parvati'd charmed for it. Hermione sat down, her back against the wall and her knees bent up. She looked up at Harry, who was nervously smiling, and he took the hint, sitting down next to her.

"No furiously making out as Lavender hoped for?" he said, not sounding dejected at all. Hermione attempted a smile.

"No, I'd rather not give her that satisfaction. I don't know why we're playing a game for teenagers when there's the threat of a battle coming up," she looped her arms around her knees.

"Well, we _are _teenagers, so it's not too much of a surprise, is it?" She shook her head in response, and he sighed. "You're right though, this isn't much of a diversion for you, me, and Ron, I don't think. Well, maybe Ron since we all know he's been wanting to kiss Lav since you turned him down last year. I don't know, I want to just end Voldemort's power, but I...ever since the prophecy, I've been thinking. I don't know if I could intentionally kill anybody, even him. I want to get revenge another way, not to become the killer that he is." Harry dragged a hand through his hair.

"How many people have told you it's what your parents would have wanted you to do?" she asked timidly, afraid anything might spark his temper.

"A few too many," he replied with only a sigh, and looked at her.

"Well, I can't tell you what or what not to do, but I think if you continue to think about it, I really don't feel like you can come to a logical conclusion. You just have to go with what you feel when the opportunity presents itself. Your instincts will know better than your analyses." He nodded.

"I've been thinking about us a lot lately, too," he said. "Ron and you, mostly. Just going through memories and having dreams about our first year, and the encounter with Tom second year. Mostly my dreams have been about third year though, with you and me rescuing Buckbeak and Sirius. I think Sirius's death is coming back to remind me why I'm still fighting in the first place, but there's also you and Ron to fight for. I don't think I'm afraid of dying, except to leave you and Ron to fight Voldemort without me is really what gets me. Ron's a great strategist, and you're great with spells, but for some odd reason, I don't want to think about what it would be like for just you two to fight."

"Because Ron and I are the closest things to being your family, and we could be lost more easily that way?" Her tone was soft, her eyes never leaving his. He nodded.

"Exactly. I mean, of course I care about all of my friends like Neville, and Ginny, but there's no one really who knows as much about me as you do. Even Ron sometimes I don't think gets it. It's weird how much I feel like I've changed since just fifth year, from chasing Cho and having dreams of places I didn't know, to chasing after virtually no one, just having little crushes that don't mean much, and reliving my past in dreams." It was the first time he'd spoken of liking anybody - including Cho - to Hermione, and she felt awkward as he brought it up.

"Maybe it's better if you didn't have a serious girlfriend," she said, trying not to sound suspicious or anything. "I mean, you'd get attached to one more person, and it would be harder to concentrate on things you need to concentrate on. Like N.E.W.T.s." She grinned, and he laughed - softly, as not to ruin Lavender's hopes for the two. Hermione distantly wondered how long it had been, but quickly realized she didn't care. She enjoyed talking with Harry so personally since their fourth year when Ron had been angry at him, and she didn't know when she would get to do so again.

"You're right, of course, but I haven't really even thought about a girlfriend so much as someone just being there to listen to me. Like you are now...that's kind of what I had imagined having a girlfriend would be like. I mean, you've listened to me before of course, but I've never confessed as much as I have tonight to anyone. Even Sirius." He reached over and took her hand, their fingers locking together so naturally and without any thought to it that one might have thought they'd done it for years. Hermione leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck, and he rested his head against hers in return.

She wasn't even nervous about it; it felt so right, she didn't even question his motives. She knew it was just because he needed someone there for him, with a strong emotional connection so he wouldn't feel so alone. She'd been through most of his battles with him, and even though she could never fathom the loss of either of her parents, much less both, she could sit with him. They could enjoy time where they spoke volumes through silence, not even needing words. Hermione didn't know how much time passed where they simply sat like that

"Hey, lovebirds!" shouted a voice on the other side of the door, and Hermione opened her eyes that had drifted closed, while Harry squeezed her hand slightly. "Time's up!" _That was only seven minutes?_ Hermione though in near disbelief, and they both stood, brushing themselves off.

"Think I should mess up the buttoning on my shirt?" Hermione whispered.

"Why not?" replied Harry, rubbing his hair to make it even messier than it naturally was, knocking his glasses askew. Hermione reached for the door bolt, but he grabbed her hand for the second time that night, and before she could ask what was wrong, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It lasted only about two seconds, but in it passed something deep, something Hermione knew only a few people would ever experience in their lifetimes, something much more than a simple jolt through each of their systems.

When they entered back into the common room, nobody looked surprised at their appearances. Hermione didn't know why Harry had kissed her at the end. Even though Hermione Granger was not one for settling for what she didn't know, for the first time in her life she didn't search for an answer. And she was perfectly fine with it.


End file.
